


The Gift of Reverie

by Foxberry



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music Festival, Awkward Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:45:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4383281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxberry/pseuds/Foxberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ Images play through his mind of sitting there with him, being touched on the arm, making him laugh that infectious laugh that reverberated in his mind. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift of Reverie

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for JM Week 2015 for the prompts Dream On and Begin Again. Somewhat late now.
> 
> Based on a true story.

Jean can feel the breeze tickle the back of his neck, circling past him and the hundreds of festival goers waiting for the next act, seated on the grass of the amphitheatre. The sky above him is flecked with stars that still pale against the lighting lining the stage. Hundreds of figures move around him, akin to shadow puppets as they find their seats. Beside him, his friends chatter amongst themselves, ignoring their fifth wheel who stares forward waiting bitterly for the act to begin.

Through the roar of voices, one rings out among them like a bright chiming, drawing his attention with an affectious laugh. Next to the loud cheering and general chatter, it sounds warm and welcoming. There’s a small shudder in Jean’s chest and he finds himself wanting to know who could produce such a sound. 

His eyes search around him, finding the handsome profile of a man off to his right, his face outlined in the gold glow before them both. He chuckles, hunching his shoulders forward in a way that makes the laugh run down his spine. He playfully taps on the shoulder of the man beside him, earning a nudge in the ribs back. Their banter plays across their faces in their smiles, somehow bright despite their shadowed silhouettes. Images play through his mind of sitting there with him, being touched on the arm, making him laugh that infectious laugh that reverberated in his mind.

“Thomas! ‘Ey, Thomas!” a man yells from just behind him. He laughs loudly, muttering something to his friend in between more yelling of Thomas. Jean’s head turns to glance at him briefly, but stops short as the man with the warm laugh turns with him. Their eyes catch for a moment and all the thoughts brings a hot rush to his face, forcing his eyes away. His head follows soon after and he laughs down at his chest. His friends are still too distracted by each other to distract him from the daydream wafting through his mind.

A shadow beside him draws him out of the light, and he is met by the bright smile of the man from his passing dream. Jean blinks, peering past the man’s shoulder to the empty spot he left behind. He blinks again and finds himself staring at the dusting of freckles across the man’s nose, highlighted by the bright lights of the stage, even from here.

“Are you Thomas?” His warm voice asks with a hint of that laugh in his tone.

Jean sits back, shoulders straight. His brows draw together, confused, at the man still smiling at him, not sure whether to laugh. He clearly wasn’t the Thomas the man behind him was calling for. “No…?”

The man hides the chuckle in his tone with a tilt of his head, eyeing Jean with a raised eyebrow. “Ah, are you sure?”

Jean nods slowly, thoroughly confused. He seemed to keep persisting. 

“Huh,” he responds, pulling a face in amused curiosity and thinking aloud, “well, I seem to have found you. Is there anyone I should return you to?”

Such a strange thing to ask. He can feel a warm flush betray his face and his eyes widen, hoping the night conceals the sudden realisation of his daydream. The words sound hollow on his lips, too busy staring at those in front of him, “No…” Unable to form a sentence, Jean takes to silence, prompting a nervous chuckle from the man in front of him. He promptly apologises between chuckles and nods his head a few awkward times before retreating across the hill to his former seat.

“Jean,” Armin’s voice calls out beside him like a prod to his side. “He was trying to be funny.”

Concerned he might be loud, Jean shakes his head and gestures to the man who had yelled from behind them. “How is that funny? I’m obviously not the guy he’s looking for.”

“Obviously…” Armin nods slowly, tilting his head and changing his tone, emphasising every word with sarcasm. “It had nothing to do with that guy trying to hit on you, nope.”

A sigh parts his lips with disbelief at Armin’s words. How could that guy even be hitting on him? It was incredibly unlikely. Scratching down his neck, Jean rebutts, “Oh come on, please, he wasn’t --”

“Did he start talking to you out of nowhere?” Armin huffs and stares forward, gesturing with an open palm.

Jean answers slowly, “Yeah…”

Armin puts up a thumb before them both and follows with his forefinger, counting it out on his hand with little change in his tone. “Did he say something stupid?”

“Mmhm.” Jean stares around him. His eyebrows furrow. He found it hard to believe he could be mistaken so easily for some random stranger called Thomas.

“With a smile? And was he nice?” Two more fingers rise on Armin’s hand. His eyes focus on Jean’s face with a knowing stare. They shine with the glint of the lights.

A smile creeps onto Jean’s face and he bites his lip to keep from looking too happy. “Really nice.”

Armin laughs and nods, dropping his hand to his side. His shoulders shrug for a moment. “Yeah, hitting on you.”

“Nah, he wasn’t. Look at him.” He throws his arm towards the direction of the man in question. Jean’s stomach flip-flops and his chest tightens when he finds a pair of eyes catching his and a small forming upon the man’s face. For a second he can’t remember what breathing is. His voice leaves him through the open gap between his lips. 

Armin’s voice calls him from behind him, a faint tone in the background of the daze in Jean’s mind. “You mean the guy still looking over at you, huh?” His amusement clear in his tone.

Jean gulps, clears his throat, and blinks to gain the ability of speech again. “That’s… that’s him.”

Armin nudges Jean in the ribs with a laugh. “Why don’t you go over and start from the beginning?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this and want to share it on Tumblr, you can find the Tumblr post [here]().
> 
> I would love to hear your feedback here or you can also find me on [Tumblr](http://foxberryblue.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](http://twitter.com/foxberryblue).


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